


Taking Chances

by hnsnrachel



Category: Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hnsnrachel/pseuds/hnsnrachel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt "Addison/Erica, 'Callie'" at the Femslash Today porn battle</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Chances

**Taking Chances**

"You're not over her, are you?"

The voice comes from behind me as I sit at a table on the roof of the bar, looking out across the city. It's vaguely familiar, but I can't place it until I turn around. Great. A thousand miles from Seattle, in a gay bar in a city of 13 million people, and an integral part of my past reappears. Addison may not realize it, but she played a part in my entire world turning upside down, and she helped Callie establish the pattern of running to Mark when she was scared of her feelings for me. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Addison hadn't said anything to Callie. Would we have realized in our own time how attracted we were to each other? Would it have helped? Would we have learned that we needed to talk to each other? Would we have never realized it and stayed friends? Would there have ever been another chance for me to figure out what was lacking, or was the combination of everything that happened the secret password to my innermost desires? I'll never know.

I didn't even know that Callie had told anyone but Sloan about us. I knew that Addison had opened her mind to the idea of us, and there was a brief, almost non-existent time when I was deliriously thankful. There was a time when, if I hadn't only wanted to be kissing Callie, that I would have kissed Addison, my heart was so full of gratitude. Now though, I don't know how I feel. I don't know if I should feel anything at all. Turning back to my drink and the view, I don't say anything. I don't know what to say.

I'm sure that Addison will leave, probably run off to tell Callie where I am, so I'm surprised when she pulls a stool round to sit beside me at the table, a gentle hand resting on my shoulder, both of us watching the joyful activity below us in silence until Addison apparently can't take it anymore. "You looked like you were watching them." Her gesture points out a young couple in the crowd, a Latina and her blonde girlfriend, curled up together in the corner of the outer section of the downstairs bar, stealing kisses from each other every few moments. They're so much younger than Callie and I, but I still feel a slight pang of regret as I look down at them and wonder  if, in another life, we could have had that.

Addison's right. I'm not over her. But, I don't think I'd been in love until her, and I've always heard that no one can ever truly replace your first love. It's always idealistic in your mind. Callie and I... it's not idealistic. We didn't have enough good moments as a couple to be able to fool myself into thinking that. But she was still my first real love, the first love of the woman I know I am now.

"Tell me what you want to tell her."

"So you can report back to her? No thanks."

"I won't tell her. You just... Look, I know that sometimes there are things we want to say, and even if we can't say them to the people we want to hear them... just having them out there in the world, sharing the burden with just one person... sometimes it helps. So. Say to me what you wish you could say to her."

“Why should I trust you?” I’ve met this woman only once, and she has a bond with Callie. There’s no reason to believe that she would ever choose my side over hers. I’m not the most experienced at friendship, but I didn’t think betrayal was a part of it. It’s just another thing in a long list that Callie got wrong. 

I still miss her.  

“No woman’s an island, Erica. I never told her what you said that night.” Flashing back to the night that started us on the crazy road that’s left me battered and alone in a city of transient emotion and fake realities, I remember watching Callie dance with Sloan, I remember the ache in my chest that I couldn’t understand, I remember the way she kept looking at me, the way she looked at me again before leaving with him. Every moment is vivid, Technicolor, and crippling. Faintly beneath it all, I can remember snippets of conversation, nothing seemingly more important than the best friend I loved and lost. Telling Addison that Callie is beautiful was an automatic reflex, something I couldn’t control. And it’s true. Anyone can see that Callie is beautiful. But the ugly truth is different. She’s stupid, she’s naive, she’s scared, uncomfortable with who she is. I don’t think she even knows who she is. She’s impulsive and never, ever thinks. She’s a cheater... even though her husband destroyed her that way.  

“This is pointless.” I don’t know why, but something in me wants to try anyway. I can’t exorcise Callie alone, so would it really be so wrong to try? I’ve tried everything else I can think of, but I’m resigned to the belief that the heart will heal when it’s ready, and there’s nothing I can do to speed up the process. It would be so easy just to talk, but my brain warns me to tell Addison nothing, to keep my secrets, longings and desires deep down inside where they belong. Talking about Callie isn’t going to help at all. The problem is, I have no idea what will.

Dismissing her, I aimlessly look across the crowds below us, finding that my gaze is pulled back to the couple that Callie and I could have been in another lifetime.

"Yet you're still watching them" Addison Montgomery is annoyingly persistent, and, apparently, completely blind to the fact that I'd rather be alone. I learned months ago - years before - that it's the only way to be. I can't let anyone in again. I can't. It hurts too much to have to let go.

"I'm not." I try to look away, but I can't help glancing back to them.

"Erica... why did you leave?" Her voice is soft, a different tone to it, and I'm not sure what she's doing.

"I had no choice, Addison. Seattle Grace is a joke... and Callie... isn't the woman I thought she was." I know the anger is clear in my voice, but Addison ignores it.

"Don't tell me. Tell her. I'm Callie. You're you. Go."

"If you're Callie, I don't want you anywhere near me!" Snatching up my purse, I push the chair back angrily, pushing through the crowds, heading to the stairs. I clatter down them, trying to ignore the footsteps that follow me, hoping that Addison isn't that stupid.

I force my way out of the bar, hearing Addison apologize for me, and, clearly, I should just stop hoping. Every time I do, things turn out completely opposite, and I don't think I can deal with it anymore.

"Erica." I don't turn, focusing on remembering where I left my car. I turn onto a street away from the lights and sounds of partying, people celebrating, reveling, carefree enjoyment that I've rarely experience. I'm in sight of my car when Addison grabs my wrist, and it deflates me. The anger is still present, boiling in my veins, a cloudy rush to my brain, but I can feel other emotions descending, things I've forced away with everything I have. Why does the past have to haunt me? I think I could have continued pretending for forever if Addison hadn't appeared, bringing the ghost of Callie to the forefront of my mind. Stopping in my tracks, I don't turn, my voice tired, "What do you want from me?"

"I just want to help."

"Why?"

Addison sighs. It's heavy, heartbroken. "Callie isn't the easiest woman to forget." 

"I don't understand."

"You're not the first person whose life turned upside down for her."

A picture forms in my head, and I'm not sure I like it. It would make so many more things a lie, worsen a betrayal that already brings me to my knees. "You and Callie?"

The redhead drops my wrist, steps around me, and I see the sadness in her gaze, her eyes a cacophony of emotions that reflect my own feelings, faint, not screaming like I'm sure mine do, but definitely there. "We were never... but, yes. Essentially. I could never figure out how to tell her... so I left. But it didn't help, Erica. It took talking about it to make sense of it all."

"I don't want to."

"It hurts. I know. But it hurts more not to let it go."

"I don't want it to hurt anymore." I don't recognize my voice. I sound broken, defeated, not at all the woman I thought I was, and I hate that Callie's taken even that away from me.

"I know." Addison steps forwards, wrapping her arms around me, and not only do I let her... I cling, desperately, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over as I bury my face against her shoulder. Addison strokes my back, trying to soothe me, but I'm not sure that anything could. In this moment, I'm sure I'd trade my soul to have never met Callie. I'm certain I'd burn for eternity to not suffer this pain.

I don't know how long we stand here, but it's long enough to get some of my emotions under control. It feels good to let someone touch me again. Physically. Emotionally. She's warm against me, and a nagging voice in the back of my head tells me I should step away now before I let someone new in. My body wants  something different though, and as much as I like to pretend otherwise... I'm only human.

My head eventually wins the battle, but when I loosen my grip, expecting Addison to move away, she keeps her arms tight around me, and I give in. I let her hold me and I rest my head on her shoulder again, breathing in the subtle spice of her perfume, mentally comparing it to Callie's as hard as I try not to. And, once that floodgate is open, I'm comparing everything about them. Addison feels different in my arms, but she fits as well as Callie did. Addison's older, more settled in her own skin, less skittish. She's not afraid of what she wants and her embrace is more concrete than Callie's ever was... and as everything swirls around me, both tangible and intangible, my love, my loss and my libido all come rushing back.

I'm not sure what I'm doing, but when I nuzzle against her skin, my lips faintly brushing her throat, I know I want her. I want her to make me forget, make me remember, make me lose everything but my desire. I want her to help me prove that the wounds Callie inflicted can be healed.

Addison ignores the first brush of my lips, but the second makes her grip on me change, my name a whisper on the wind, a plea, a warning.  I press my lips against her skin once more, and she tilts her head just slightly, giving me more access. Trailing my tongue up towards her ear, I whisper, sounding more broken than I had hoped "Help me forget." As the heat of my breath drives away the slight chill of the night air, Addison moans, just slightly, and I know she's willing. I don't know, but maybe this was what she was hoping for.  Maybe she needs me to help her forget, too.  Whatever the case, Addison’s moan frees something inside of me, the acquiescence sparking a flame that threatens to burn me alive. It’s been so long since anyone wanted me, longer since my desire wasn't accompanied by worry and a twinge of fear. Bringing my lips to hers, I hesitate for just a second, wanting to be sure I haven’t read her wrong. She closes the slight distance between us, and we melt together, tongues exploring, my hand stroking her cheek, sliding back into her hair, devouring her with a hunger that I’ve denied for too long.

Even now, though, I’m comparing her to Callie. I shared so very few all-consuming kisses with Callie, nerves taking hold too often, but Addison shows no fear, kissing me back like she needs this as much as I do, her hand cupping my cheek, holding me to her, offering a comfort I’ve needed for so long. It settles something for me, the slight doubt that maybe it was just Callie who could inspire a lust that had to be sated. She was the first person I wanted so much that I was sure I’d die if I couldn’t touch her.

Addison is the second.

We break apart for air, gasping, and our eyes meet, a lustful gaze heavy between us, no apprehension in her eyes. She isn’t scared to want me. I had no idea how much of a rush that would be. My fingers are still tangled in her hair, and I pull her back to me, our lips colliding, the kiss rough and demanding, heat burning at every point our bodies connect, radiating across my skin. I lose track of our surroundings, lost in the taste of her, the pleasure that floods through me, a wave of desire so strong that I couldn’t resist it if I tried.

Walking her backwards, I press her against the car, loving the hiss she lets out as her back hits cool metal and glass, the way her hips roll against me as I push as close to her as I possibly can. I nip at her bottom lip, soothing the pain with my tongue, pushing a knee between her legs, feeling her grind down against me. I wrap myself up in her, sliding my hands from her hair, down her arms and toying with the edge of her shirt as I move my lips back to her throat, nipping, sucking, open mouthed kisses that she encourages with hungry moans.

I slip my hands beneath the silky fabric of her top, warm skin under my palms making me whimper, her chest moving towards mine as I trace the skin just below the edge of her bra before cupping full breasts, nipples hard through the thin fabric. She gasps, struggling to find words. “Car... Erica... car”

I murmur into her throat, intent on marking her despite the knowledge that I’m behaving like a sixteen year old boy. I want her to look at herself for the next few days and remember me, I want to know that she won’t immediately forget me, the way I’m sure Callie did. I want to prove to myself that I know who I am now, that I might be thrown, might feel lost... but it won’t be like that forever. “What?”

“Open... the car.” I capture her lips again, pulling a hand from beneath my shirt and digging in my purse for my keys, fumbling but finally touching metal, my hands as steady as ever as I pull them out. I pull away from Addison long enough to unlock the door, turning back into her embrace and kissing her again. This time, she pushes me away, spins and wrenches the door open, crawling onto the backseat, turning, beckoning me towards her with a wicked smile.

I’m aware of how insane this is. I rarely even did this in high school, but I can’t think. I can’t concentrate on anything but how desperately I want her. Maybe it’s for all the wrong reasons, or maybe those reasons are right, maybe this is the wrong time, the wrong place... but this is what I need. I need to feel wanted and alive, and something other than the numb emptiness that’s filled me since I left Seattle. I want to dive in, not be the responsible one for once in my life, to let myself be a slave to my passions. I just want to know how it feels to do something that you know might be stupid, but that might be worth it for that one moment of pleasure. I want something so good that I can’t regret it, no matter how much I should.

But, most of all... I want to know that I didn’t suffer so much with Callie for nothing. I need to find something worthy in that experience.

I smile back as I crawl into the car, glad the backseat is spacious, tugging the door closed behind me.

“Where were we?” I feel the smile break across my face as she maneuvers us so I’m laying above her, our discomfort forgotten as she brings our lips back together.

For just a few brief hours, in the car, then later, in an upscale hotel room, Addison’s eagerness chases Callie away... and I know I’m going to be okay.**  
**


End file.
